


The Benefits of Borrowing

by scatter



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Clothing Kink, Community: badbadbathhouse, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:10:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatter/pseuds/scatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yosuke lets Souji borrow some of his clothes after his get dirty. Souji gets...excited over it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Benefits of Borrowing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a [prompt](http://badbadbathhouse.livejournal.com/1990.html?thread=12091846#t12091846) at the Persona 4 Kink Meme: _For whatever reason, Souji ends up borrowing some of Yosuke's clothes. And for as much as he tries (and mostly succeeds) to hide just how hot and bothered that gets him, once he's finally back in the privacy of his own room it's impossible to fight the urge to just give in and touch himself through said clothes._

"Dammit, Ted!"

Souji held his juice-soaked shirt away from himself and examined the damage while Yosuke threw his hands up and rounded on Teddie.

"I told you not to run around in here!" Teddie hunched his shoulders, eyes watering, and one look at him evaporated any anger Souji felt. Yosuke took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. He was calmer when he spoke again. "Look, just… Sit on that stool, okay, so you don't step on any broken glass. I'll clean this up."

"I'll help." Souji let his shirt cling to him – his pants stuck too, uncomfortably, if not embarrassingly – and waved away Yosuke's assurance that he didn't have to do anything.

"I'm so sorry, Sensei," Teddie said, drooping in his seat.

"Don't worry about it," he said, and dropped some broken glass into the trashcan. "I know you didn't mean it."

Yosuke looked like he wanted to say something but bit his lip and concentrated on wiping up the juice, soaked paper towels joining the glass in the trash. "Come on, partner, I'll get you something to change into."

"What?" Souji tried to keep his face blank as the offer sent a number of thoughts through his mind, some of them embarrassing, some of them threatening to make him blush, and all of them inappropriate. "That's not really necessary."

"So, what, you're just going to sit around smelling like plums and being sticky?" Yosuke left the kitchen. "I don't think so."

He had a point. The only other option was to leave and change but by the time he got back the easy mood they'd had going – what was left of it, anyway – would probably be gone and their day together would be a bust. Souji had been enjoying himself and the idea of being ending on such a sour note wasn't appealing, so he followed, though not without some hesitation.

Yosuke noticed. "Dude, they're just clothes, calm down. I don’t mind, really."

Souji tried to tell himself the same thing but the truth was they weren't just clothes – they were _Yosuke's_ clothes and that made a world of difference, pathetic and sad and weird as that was. After all, who got hot and bothered over their crush's clothing?

"I don’t want to be a bother," he said, which was close enough to the truth that he didn't feel bad about saying it.

"You'll be more trouble if you get the couch dirty because I'll be the one stick cleaning it, and I've already got to mop before Mom gets home." Souji couldn't think of an argument to that and didn't say anything as Yosuke closed the door to his room behind them. Then it was hard to think of anything at all except that he was in Yosuke's room and aware of it in a way he'd only been on his first visit. Everything around him belonged to Yosuke – the cluttered desk, with a few attempts at origami (Souji smiled to himself, remembering his attempts to show Yosuke a few of the more complicated folds); the guitar in the corner, which, at his request, Yosuke had strummed a few notes on before becoming self-conscious and putting it away; the poster of some band Souji didn't recognize, just like he didn't recognize half of the music Yosuke shared with him; and the closet full of Yosuke's clothes, some of which he was going to be wearing very shortly.

He had a sudden, intense urge to wrap himself up in the futon or sit in the middle of the floor and mess with Yosuke's things for a few hours, preferably with Yosuke next to him, but he sent the thoughts scurrying away. Yosuke let him get away with a lot of things, but he doubted those suggestions would have gone without comment.

Yosuke didn't notice his fascination with the room and threw the closet doors open with a sigh. "Let's find you something."

Souji shifted his weight at the heavy tone to his voice. "Sorry."

"About what?"

"About this." He gestured to the stain on his shirt, and Yosuke made another tired sound, turning his attention back to the hangers. Souji watched his fingers as he pushed aside one article of clothing after another.

"It's not you, it's Teddie. I mean, not Teddie in general – I've got to make it up to him for blowing up like that – but…" He didn't quite look at Souji when he glanced over his shoulder. "I was really hoping it'd just be us today, you know? With the investigation and school and work lately, we haven't had time to hang out and I was psyched about this. I could have sworn Ted had work today and when I found out he didn't… I don't know, I was just in a you and me mode, not a you and me and Teddie mode."

Was feeling flattered the right response to that? Souji wasn't sure, but Yosuke's words made him go warm and he hoped that he wasn't blushing, not when he knew it'd show so easily. "I know what you mean," he said because as much as he enjoyed Teddie's company he'd felt the same disappointment. "But after we hang out with Teddie for a while, I'm sure he won't mind us going off by ourselves."

Yosuke met his eyes. "You think?"

"Sure, there's plenty of time left for just the two of us."

"Okay, yeah." Grinning, Yosuke abruptly abandoned the clothing in front of him, kneeling down to pick something up off the closet floor and toss it to him. "Here, this should fit alright."

Souji recognized it the graphic on the front. It was one of the shirts Yosuke wore often, one he'd had on just a day or two ago. "I'll be right back—"

"What? No, I've still got to give you pants. Plus, I've seen you change in gym like five hundred times." Yosuke stood up and busied himself with the hangers again. "Change in here and save yourself a trip."

"Oh." Souji worried the shirt between his hands – it had the soft feeling that meant it'd been washed often – and felt his stomach drop in a motion that was as disconcerting as it was pleasant. "Okay."

He turned away from Yosuke while he removed his shirt. There was no real reasons to; like Yosuke'd said, they'd changed around each other more times than he could count, but there'd always been distractions there, other boys making a ruckus and if he'd sneaked looks at Yosuke it was easy to play them off whenever he'd been caught. But somehow, as he pulled the shirt over his head, he felt more obvious than ever, like meeting Yosuke's eyes now would reveal everything.

He ran his hands down his front, pressing the shirt against his skin. It was soft and a little worn, and it smelled like—he tried not to notice, not to care, but it smelled like Yosuke, probably more strongly than it would have if it'd been washed. It was easy to imagine Yosuke coming home after a hard day at Junes, tossing it aside to be cleaned later, and never getting around to it, and the thought should have raised something other than a trembling in his fingers. Annoyance, maybe, if not a little disgust, but he found himself unable to summon either of those, instead rubbing the shirt between his fingers.

When he pulled himself out of his thoughts, he found Yosuke watching him thoughtfully, a pair of jeans in hand. He definitely went red this time, although he hadn't been thinking of anything in particular, certainly nothing that should have made him feel like he'd been caught.

"Are those going to fit?" he asked before Yosuke could open his mouth and say anything.

"They should." Yosuke handed them over. "We're pretty close in size, but they might be a little tighter than you're used to, I don’t know…" He hooked a finger under the waistband of Souji's pants and tugged to test the give. "Eh, you'll be alright for a while. Maybe just don't eat anything."

"Thanks," Souji said, proud of how steady he managed to keep his voice when Yosuke was putting his hands on him so casually. "Though I don't know how you manage to fit them the way you devour the bento I make for you."

Yosuke chuckled and pulled his hand back. "Good genes. I'm going to go talk to Teddie. If you want, you can just leave your clothes here and I'll get them back to you after I wash them."

"Sounds good." The door closed behind Yosuke, and Souji set about taking his pants off, frowning when he touched the sticky residue on them. It was a relief to put clean clothes on, or at least partly a relief; Yosuke's pants were tighter than he was used to and he couldn't help but think of all the times he'd admired Yosuke wearing the same pair. More embarrassing – more pressing – was how they made him aware of the stirring below his waist that he'd been trying to ignore. How did Yosuke wear these all the time? The friction when he moved was… Oh. Maybe that was why he wore them, and that was a thought to make him glad he was alone.

There was no mirror in the room and he was glad for that. He was already uncomfortably – increasingly – much too aware of what he was wearing and he certainly didn't want to see himself, not when he had to go downstairs and interact with other people. He indulged himself by smoothing the pants over his thighs, deciding to get it out of his system, before kicking his dirty clothes into a corner and taking a deep breath.

Wearing the clothes – Yosuke's clothes, the ones he looked so good in, the ones he'd imagined slipping a hand under more than once, the ones that might have been a little dirty and, now that he'd thought about it, he hadn't seen where Yosuke got the pants from, what if they'd come off the floor too…? Anyway, wearing them was exciting. He could acknowledge that without dwelling on it, the same way he could acknowledge the dangerous potential of a Shadow without succumbing to fear. He wasn't going to embarrass himself or Yosuke by making this into a bigger deal than it was.

Feeling better, a little more confident and at ease, he went downstairs. Yosuke was on the living room couch with Teddie, who appeared to be in a much better mood, and smiled when he caught sight of Souji. "Never thought I'd see you dressed down, partner."

Souji shrugged, taking the spot next to him and the control that was offered. "I don't own anything like this."

"Don't see why, you look fine. Maybe you should raid my closet more often."

The back of Souji's neck burned and he wished he had his collar to hide behind. "You raid mine and I'll do the same."

Yosuke started up the game system and Souji saw he'd chosen a game he didn't particularly like but that Teddie knew how to play. "I don't know if I can pull it off. I mean, can you imagine me cleaned up?" He made a face at the thought.

"You'd have to get dirty again," Souji said without thinking and tensed for the split-second it took Yosuke to laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so." He shoved Teddie gently. "No using cheap moves this time, okay? If I catch you button mashing, I'm making you do the dishes tonight."

When Yosuke played, he played hard and it wasn't long before he abandoned his usual posture to sit with his legs spread wide, their shoulders bumping and his elbow digging into Souji's side whenever something went well for him. Souji lost more often than usual, distracted by how close Yosuke was, how their short sleeves allowed their arms to brush together, and his nerves made him sweat, which only caused the shirt to stick to him. The way Yosuke looked at him didn't help. There was nothing behind the looks, Souji knew – they were nothing more than the same grins Yosuke always gave him when they were competing in something, the kind that said he was ready for whatever Souji was going to throw at him – but Souji's brain was definitely leaning towards thoughts it shouldn't have been and even knowing didn't stop his attention from wandering.

He lost most of their matches, but thankfully – frustratingly – Yosuke didn’t seem to think too much of it, just nudged him in the side and made fun of his technique. Eventually, Teddie tired of playing and wandered away, at which point Yosuke turned the game off and settled against him. "Just us now," he said. "What do you want to do?"

 _Tell you to move away,_ Souji was tempted to answer. _Tell you to move closer or move closer myself, and why is your face so close, you're doing this on purpose, aren’t you?_

"Want to go grab a snack?" he asked, shifting so that Yosuke didn't lean on his shoulder so heavily. Yosuke followed him and the movement ended up not doing anything except moving him closer to the armrest.

"You're not expecting me to treat you, right? But, yeah, that sounds—" He cut off as his phone rang and frowned when he saw the number on the screen. "Aw, shit. It's work." He hesitated like he might ignore it before answering.

Souji was close enough to hear the conversation and even if he hadn't been he could have picked it up from the way Yosuke's face dropped.

"They're calling me in," he said when he hung up, "and I can't say no, I've been screwing up my schedule so much lately to go into the TV—"

"It's fine," Souji said, not quite able to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Uncomfortable as he was, he still wanted to spend time with Yosuke. "I understand."

Yosuke groaned and pulled at his hair. "It's just—ugh, fuck, seriously? And tomorrow we've going in the TV and after that I've got another day at work. We're never going to get a couple of free hours, partner."

He tried to make it sound like a joke but his misery came through so clearly that Souji made a split-second decision. "No, we'll have tomorrow."

"The TV—"

"We can do that the day after." Souji thought of his own schedule. He'd have to push some stuff around but he'd manage, as long as Yosuke didn't find out to protest. "We'll hang out after school and do whatever. All day."

Yosuke looked at him suspiciously. "Didn't you have something planned?"

"No, nothing serious."

Yosuke hesitated, visibly torn between calling him out and taking the offer. His phone buzzed to signal a text – "Don't take forever," from his dad – and he made up his mind. "That sounds great. If anything comes up on my end, I'll just skip it."

"You'll get in trouble," Souji said, as they walked to the door.

Yosuke leaned against the doorframe. "I'll manage. See you tomorrow?"

"Right after classes. Oh," Souji added, turning around and gesturing to his clothes, "I'll get this back to you as soon as possible."

Yosuke waved that away. "I'll do the same. Probably have to scrub at it to get the stain out, but I'll make Ted do that. Then again, he might try using bleach so I guess I'll take care of it."

Souji held up a hand and left, letting out a little relieved sigh when he was out of sight as some tension he hadn't known had built up left his body. There was a different kind of tension left in its place, though, as he walked home in the borrowed outfit. He felt like someone would notice and say something, but he couldn't help but stop to take a look at himself when he passed a store window. It made a bad mirror but it worked well enough to give him some idea of how he looked. He traced the V-neck with a finger and subtly tried to tug the jeans up. Not only were they tighter than what he was used to but they rode low as well. He'd never noticed, not with Yosuke's shirt always in the way, but he knew every time he saw Yosuke in them again it was going go cross his mind.

Suddenly too hot, he quickened his step, overcome with the desire to get home.

Nanako was still at the park when he closed the front door behind him, and he hurried to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. He caught sight of his face in the mirror and looked away, leaning over the basin. His face was red enough and his eyes wide enough that anyone might have thought he was suffering from a fever, and a sinking guilt built up in his stomach, which was stupid because he was just going to cool off and then change out of these clothes.

He told himself that even as he continued to linger in the bathroom, taking too long to wash his face and hands, and growing hotter with each passing second. The water didn't help, not even when he blasted it ice cold, and he shut it off in frustration.

They were just clothes, he told himself firmly, and glared at himself in the mirror before heading to his room.

He had to change. He'd feel better once he was wearing something of his own.

Those thoughts evaporated as soon as he was in the privacy of his room, and he didn't really try to fight it. He'd always been weak to things concerning Yosuke.

It shouldn't have been possible to be as hard as he was in these pants. He shouldn't have been hard at all over his best friend, but when he sank down to sit in front of the door, his legs weak, the shirt bunched up and there was that smell again – Yosuke, sweat, and the remnants of whatever cologne or deodorant he wore. Souji rested his head on his knee and inhaled deeply as his hand went between his legs. Closing his eyes made it better, brought the image of Yosuke more clearly, made it easier to imagine the fingers outlining his cock weren't his own.

He'd had a lot of weird fantasies about Yosuke and he knew they were weird because they were nothing like what Yosuke shared when he talked about girls. Yosuke mentioned sex and feeling girls up, breasts and French kissing, and Souji thought about things like that too, about kissing Yosuke until he was couldn't speak or finding him after a fight when he was full of adrenaline and on edge and letting Yosuke do whatever he wanted to him, but most of his thoughts… How often did Yosuke imagine feeding someone lunch, daydream about taking care of him when he was injured, or get aroused by the idea of touching someone through clothing in thoughts that managed to be sexual without being about sex? He just wanted to _touch_ Yosuke so badly, to trace his fingers up the seam of his jeans or suck on the exposed length of his neck, that sometimes his hands started to move on their own.

Now, eyes closed, hand working, shirt between his teeth – and when had that gotten there? – he bounced back between the reality of wearing and touching himself in Yosuke's clothes and imagining Yosuke in front of him, imagined him hard from the fact that Souji was wearing his clothes. He didn't actually imagine him saying anything, he couldn't—god, this was _so embarrassing_ , what was he doing—but he'd dreamed of Yosuke's lips on his neck often enough that he could almost feel him mouthing something there, something dirty that Souji would never be able to bring himself to say but he'd love to hear Yosuke whisper. Maybe some lyrics from the dirty songs he listened to sometimes, the ones that he switched on when Souji was wearing his headphones and then laughed when he blushed.

Not enough friction in this position. Was it possible to not think of what you were doing even as you deliberately changed it? Souji tried very hard not to think of how he must have looked as he rose to his knees to rub himself more firmly, even as he pictured Yosuke doing the same thing, getting worked up enough to want to get off but too comfortable to remove any clothing and settling with getting off through his pants, maybe this same exact pair—

The shirt in his mouth muffled his shocked gasped when he came almost too quickly, and if the pants hadn't been dirty before they were now. Coughing, he inhaled until the smell made him almost believe Yosuke was right behind him, and he pulled the wet bundle of cloth of his mouth after he stopped shuddering and moaning and sat back down, feeling a little guilty. The knowledge that he shouldn't have done this battled with the rush of having it done and the pleasure of continuing to lazily touch himself, allowing himself, for the moment at least, to be lewd, not embarrassed (for the most part) by the way he panted.

He knew he couldn’t stay like this forever and, after a while, peeled the pants off, kicking them in a corner. The shirt he kept on until he'd replaced his boxers and then it joined the pants. Nanako was washing tomorrow but he could throw these in early and get them back to Yosuke to remove the temptation from his room. He could resist a lot of things, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to resist doing that again. It'd been… Would Yosuke say anything if he claimed to have lost them?

He bit his tongue at the thought and glared at the crumpled pile. Definitely going in the wash.

But things came up, and in the end it took him a week to return them.

Yosuke seemed to have forgotten and Souji didn’t say anything, sometimes the topic genuinely slipping his mind, other times deliberately avoiding bringing it up, but finally Dojima made a comment when he came downstairs one night wearing the shirt. He'd taken to sleeping in it and Dojima's casual comment made him realize he had to get them to Yosuke or he'd end up keeping them.

"Here," he said, returning them at Yosuke's house and trying not to be too obvious that he was avoiding looking him in the eye. "Sorry it took so long."

"What are…?" Yosuke unfolded them. "Oh, man, I completely forgot about these. Hey, they smell good."

"I washed them, of course." He probably didn't need to mention how many times. "Did you get around to cleaning my stuff?"

"About that…" Yosuke rubbed the back of his neck. "Eh, no, actually. Give me another day?"

"Oh." Souji frowned. "That stain's probably set then. You can just toss them."

"No, the stain is gone, I got that out, but they've been buried, um, in the back of my closet and probably smell like, I don’t know, whatever I have in there. Socks or something." He tapped a fingernail against the coffee table and bounced his leg. "Tomorrow, okay? Definitely."

Two days later, Yosuke brought them to his house, and his shirt smelled so much like Yosuke – not socks or the back of a closet, but Yosuke himself – that he found it hard to hold a conversation, mind stuck on what he'd done just a few days ago and the possibility that Yosuke might have…

His thoughts didn't get any farther than that. It was too embarrassing, too… It was just too much to even imagine.

But he did, more than once.


End file.
